A Worse Man
by Dorante243
Summary: Mal thinks on the changes that are happening on his ship, wondering if he is doing the right thing for his crew by rebuilding after Miranda. Post- BDM about 2 years. Firefly/Supernatural/Twilight crossover fusion Extravaganza. This is a set up one shot for a series, my brain attempting something. If you guess which cover name is which character, you get whiskey! critics welcome


It was three am ship time when mal woke in a cold sweat. His heart was pounding out of his chest, hands wrenched in his sheets, well those he hadn't kicked off. The moment the silence of serenity hit him he remembered where he was, who he was, when he was. Taking deep breaths he listened to his beautiful ship flying through deep space around him. Slowly he came to himself, leaving behind the dream of dirt ditches turned to mud by the blood of his comrades.

This dream had been particularly bad, in reality he had disarmed the bomb on the gate, getting his squad through to a defensive position, but in the dream they were sitting ducks. Worse, Mal had cut the wrong wire and tripped the explosion. The last thing he had seen before waking up was faithful Zoe making cover fire, watching his back even as he messed up and blew them both to bits.

Great, now his conscious was using old wounds to make new commentary.

Mal got up and splashed his face with cold water. He threw on a shirt, pants and boots and made his way to the bridge knowing sleep was a lost cause. The door to the bridge was open yet Mal still walked quietly on to it, but apparently not quietly enough. As he stepped onto the bridge Ella was walking towards the forward lounge, throwing him a smile over her shoulder as she went to lay among her children leaving the console on auto pilot and the upper deck to him.

Upon moving on to serenity with two children and babysitter in tow, the four of which apparently never really liked to be separated, Ella faced a conundrum of sleeping arrangements. She had cleverly overcome the issue with finesse and a little bit of ingenuity. When she realized that the crew had never really used the forward lounge, and now they all avoided the bridge, she simply turned the lounge into a living breathing eight year old's dream: a couch fort. If Zoe hadn't already won the prize he might have called her the coolest mom ever.

Three locked trunks held all their material belongings and the grating on the forward had been covered in pillows, futon mats and blankets currently occupied by two sprawling children and JC. He was neatly tucked up to a bulkhead facing the access ladder as well as the forward airlock, covering all exits and entrances. That was Jaz all right, it seemed the man was hyper vigilant. Babysitter my ass, Mal recognized a bodyguard when he saw one.

There might have been a time Mal protested the invasion of the bridge, the bridge was supposed to be a place of business, but Ella hadn't really given him time to protest, or reason. She just went ahead and moved in. Pretty much like she did everything, with efficiently and with good reason. Hell, even with two unpredictable sleeping children down there he still had good access to the airlock as well as the lower decks. And she was proficient; whenever he walked onto the bridge she seemed to be awake, checking gauges and dials, or reading over the manuals brushing up on the mechanics of firefly's. Never a hair out of place, a harsh word or a bump in the flying.

He wondered what she was hiding.

Ella, herself, didn't threaten him, but other people's secrets could be very deadly, he knew from personal experience. Those children meant the world to her, and with her ability as a pilot, she could have provided them a better present and future on any number of large spacecraft, Alliance especially. He guessed that why she was here, on his serenity, because her professionalism and easy false smiles pointed to a long life in the Alliance. Not that he wasn't sympathetic to those running from the Alliance, but he had enough Goram complications. If she hadn't been pulling her weight, well, enough weight for the four of them, he wouldn't have kept her on so long. she really was a good pilot, almost better than….

He cut off that thought, guilt coursing viscerally through his body. No. Ella wasn't a better pilot than Wash. Sure she might have better form than him when it came to the mechanics of flying, but she had a cold character. Even with her and her children sleeping in the forward lounge, she couldn't bring that air of hominess to the bridge, the welcoming feeling of Wash in his environment, a leaf on the wind.

That thought just brought on more guilt. Mal's eyes wandered down from the black to light on the sleeping forms below. It was his leadership that had shredded his family to little pieces, his decisions that had killed wash, sacrificed the Shepard, taken the little bit of happiness Zoe had, pushed Inara away, again. Kaylee was a killer now. And that was his fault. It ate at him, day and night. And if breaking his family to teeny tiny peices wasn't enough, he was replacing the missing ones.

It had taken him a year to hire another pilot, none of those they interviewed made the cut. At first it was Zoe who took a disliking to every pilot they talked to, but after a landing where River was having a bad day which involved pulling out bolts and replacing them with carrots so Mal almost crashed the ship, Zoe started finding good qualities to the pilots they interviewed. It took another four months, a birthing and Mal's piloting skills blowing out a grav boot before he was convinced. Shortly after Badger called with an offer, great pilot looking for a gig that was child friendly. Ella was a good enough pilot they would have hired her even if the babysitter hadn't been thrown in. And thus, Wash was replaced.

The babysitter, JC, was supposable Ella's brother. Yet they looked nothing alike, spoke with different accents, different turn of phrases, different mannerisms. It was clear to Mal and Zoe that these two people had not grown up in the same household, much less the same planet. Their similarities were those of people who spent years in eachother's company. Hell, even Jayne had noticed, commenting on it in passing after dinner the other night. After that the rest of the crew, basically Simon and Kaylee, were a little on edge around him. Not that it was hard, the man screamed lethal. If Mal had meet him on the street and someone told him that man spent his day chasing eight year olds the captain would have laughed his heart out. JC had the aura of a corny olde villan, dark, moody and somber. But there was a subtle transformation that occurred when you put a child in his care, he might not have been the cool uncle who built pillow forts, but he made the kids happy, saw to their safty, and their self sufficency. They in turn may not have looked up to him with adoration like they did Ella, but they depended on him and in turn he was utterly devoted to them. There were times when Mommy-is-working and couldn't be disturbed, but that was never the case with JC. He was like an extension of their arms, there when they needed him and waiting when they didn't. It was perhaps this quality that allowed Zoe to trust little Willow to his care.

It had been Jayne that had connected the dots before Mal or Zoe, and Mal was still kicking himself over that one. At least he was reminded there was a good reason he was paying Jayne. It was that comment after dinner, thrown away like it was appallingly obvious to everyone. "Wonder whose bastards those are that she hired a bodyguard with his quick reactions."

"bodyguard?" Simon asked skeptical. "Thought JC was a babysitter?"

Jayne rolled his eyes and got up, "What the goram you think a bodyguard does, prissy? They's nothing but babysitters with sharp eyes and big guns. Heh, bettcha she has to pay extra to get him to change diapers."

Mal always took it as a bad sign when Jayne started making sense, but well, JC's skills had come in handy when someone had tried to snatch Willow at the market, right off Zoe's back. Mal hadn't been there to watch her back, and the man had the child in hand and was down an alley between stalls before Zoe had even gotten her gun up all the way. JC had appeared on the otherside, simply snapping the man's neck and catching Willow before she fell, handing her back to her mother. Maybe that's what won JC her trust.

JC: the deadly and wise protector. And thus, Shepard Book was replaced.

Mal was a bad man for breaking his family. He was a much worse man for building a new one.

Suddenly the comfortable familiar bridge was suffocating. It was his bridge that was never a question, but Wash had been manning it since the beginning of time. Now, a new presence was here, one that had crept in slowly so that it was never noticed how much things were changing. Mal looked down from the black, thinking of a not so distant time he would have taken the sleeping bodies as an intrusion into his sanctuary. Mal didn't like change.

He got up abruptly, and left the bridge, heading for the galley and tea. What he hadn't been expecting was the sound of manly mumbling and cards hitting the big wooden table. Light was on in the galley and around the table sat Simon, Jayne, and the new Boys, Smith and Wesson. They found their names funny for some reason. Jayne and Simon were teaching the boys Tall Card, it seemed Wesson was winning.

Upon seeing Mal in the doorway, Smith looked up and grinned at him, "Don't any of you ever sleep?" He asked laughing, "welcome to insomnia anonymous, home of the high strung, beef heads, ptsd freaks and normal freaks. Take a seat, if you guess which is which, you get whiskey."

Mal wanted to punch the arrogant handsome grin off his face. And thus, Inara was replaced.


End file.
